Private I am a Material Girl [Complete]

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Kinley Pryse can win a sabacc game with a hand of expired ration coupons and pure confidence​

Corellia smelled like fuel, hot metal, and ego. Kinley Pryse liked two out of the three.

The sun beat down across the outskirts of Coronet City, baking the rows of stripped freighters and rusting engine parts that littered the salvage yard. Somewhere nearby, a hydrospanner screamed against durasteel while an old loader droid cursed in binary at a stuck tread. Just another day on the galaxy's most self-important rock.

According to every Corellian with a pulse, the planet produced the greatest pilots in the galaxy.

According to Kinley, they mostly produced loud men with fast ships and fragile pride.

Still, flyboys were entertaining. Easy to flatter. Easier to rob.

She shifted her weight against the side of her speeder, boot crossed over the other, hat tipped low enough to shade her eyes. A toothpick rolled lazily between her teeth while one gloved hand rested near the holster at her hip. To anyone passing by, she looked relaxed. Casual.

Truth was, she was counting seconds.

Behind her sat an old GX-12 freight hauler that looked one hard sneeze away from total collapse. One engine casing hung open. Coolant stains streaked the hull. Half the exterior panels were mismatched salvage colors, and the port stabilizer had been deliberately scorched black to make it look like it had blown during atmospheric entry.

Perfect camouflage.

Inside the "broken" freighter sat enough credit chits to pay over three thousand workers stationed in Naboo's expanding plasma-refinement facilities. The Trade Guild handling payroll had switched to physical transport after a string of slicing attacks compromised their banking relays in the Mid Rim. Someone in accounting decided old-fashioned hard currency was safer than digital transfers.

Someone in accounting was an idiot.

Kinley had intercepted the shipping route three weeks ago. A few forged manifests, one bribed dock supervisor, and a falsified maintenance request later, the payroll shipment had conveniently ended up stranded in a quiet salvage yard under her supervision.

Now all she needed was a fall guy.

Her eyes drifted toward the road leading into the yard.

The engineer should be arriving any minute now.

Poor bastard probably thought he was answering a routine repair call from a stranded cargo pilot. Come fix the dead freighter. Earn a few credits. Maybe flirt a little. Then, sometime during diagnostics, the ship would disappear with the payroll aboard while every security log conveniently showed one last authorized mechanic accessing the systems.

Clean.

Simple.

Beautiful.

Kinley smirked around the toothpick as the distant whine of an approaching speeder finally reached her ears.

Showtime.




Corin Vale

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Corin Vale]

It was the little things in life that Corin appreciated. No line at the caf stand, an extra deviled pikobi egg in his order, No traffic on the roads in and out of the city.

And a job that meant he didn’t have to leave atmosphere. It came in earlier that morning, and Corin immediately bid on it. Quick job, in and out for a full day’s pay?

Who’d be stupid enough to pass on that?

It took longer than he originally expected to make it out to this scrapyard. The distance and remote location put Corin on edge until he saw the small woman sitting on a speeder waiting for him, and then no one else lurking around the scraps as he halted the vehicle.

“Not some…elaborate ruse to draw someone out here to rob ‘em.” He said quietly as he pulled the datapad from his bag, then gave a small wave to the woman. He put on his best customer service smile, though his eyes maintained their tired expression.

“Hey you must be…Ms…” he looked down at the tablet, “Lugosi? Nice to meet’cha. I’m Corin.” He nodded his head and shifted his gaze to the ship.

“Right-o. GX-12…” his eyes scanned down the tablet, “...blown port stabilizer. ” He looked up at the ship and raised an eyebrow. It had the signs about it. Burnt black, carbon scoring around the edges but something felt…off about it. He squinted and clicked his tongue. It seemed…he didn’t know. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Right… yeah, looks like it,” he shrugged, ignoring the feeling. At the end of the day it didn’t matter. If it couldn’t fly it couldn’t fly. He was gonna make it fly regardless of what the problem was. And he got paid either way.

“I’ll know more when I get to an access panel.” He set the tablet down and put a hand on the side of his speeder,

“But what happened?” He asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes flickering up to the ship again, “you must be a helluva pilot to get that thing landed with a blown stabilizer. Ain’t no way auto-pilot is gonna pull that off.” He turned back to her and smiled, “but while we’re here, is that it? It’s just the stabilizer? Cause this ship…” he looked back and shook his head, “Looks...ragged. Yeah ragged’s a good word. Anythin’ else needs fixin’ since I’m out here?”

Kinley Pryse

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

The difference between Kinley Pryse and a Jedi? Jedi mind tricks wear off eventually​

Kinley watched the speeder roll into the salvage yard, dust curling behind it in pale waves. Her attention settled less on the vehicle and more on the man climbing out of it.

Nervous.

She could always tell.

His eyes swept the yard first, rolling over the dead machinery, the empty stretches of scrap, the isolated silence of the place. He looked like he was already wondering whether answering this call had been a mistake.

Then he spotted her.

Kinley caught the exact moment the tension drained out of him.

Just a woman.

Short. Thin. Hat tipped low over her eyes. Boots dusty from Corellian dirt. One hip leaned against her speeder like she didn't have a care in the galaxy.

His shoulders loosened immediately. That almost made her laugh. This was going to be easier than she thought.

"That's me," she said when he approached, flashing him a smile polished sharp enough to cut through common sense. The kind of smile that made men feel competent, trusted, maybe even a little heroic.

"Though technically it wasn't me who flew her in." She jerked a thumb toward the freighter behind her. "My ex did. Then the bastard ditched me out here after we got into it."

Kinley sighed dramatically and folded her arms, selling irritation just as much as vulnerability.

"Locked me out of the system before he left too. I can't even get the old girl powered up."

Her lower lip pushed into the faintest pout, subtle enough to seem natural, though internally she hated herself a little for using it. If she saw another woman pulling the same stunt, she'd probably gag.

Still, it worked.

"All my clothes, creds, everything I own is stuck in there," she continued. "Can't even get a room in the city until I can get inside."

She tilted her head slightly, offering him a crooked little smile beneath the brim of her hat.

"I really appreciate the help.”






Corin Vale

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Corin Vale]

“Ditched you…here? On Corellia? Like he just ran off into the sunset? ….here? On Corellia?” He asked, blinking in disbelief.

“...Why?” he couldn’t help but ask, exasperatedly gesturing with his hands. The thought of leaving a pretty woman behind was bad enough, sure, but to leave her and then go…anywhere on Corellia? Why wouldn’t he wait for the ship to be fixed?

He slowly closed his eyes and shook his head, “Whatever,” he said, dismissively, “Right so, this is his ship and he left you here with it. Hey, whatever your name’s on the thing,” his hand flicked the datapad and he shrugged his shoulders.

“‘Specially if all your stuff’s onboard. That’s a bad beat.” He pulled a tool from his belt and walked towards the ship’s entranceway.

“I’d tell ya though I wouldn’t stick around Corellia lookin’ for a room, miss Lugosi if I can help it.” he shrugged his shoulder as his tired eyes locked onto the entry’s access panel, “Just personal preference, hopefully this'll be an easy fix an' you ain't gotta.” he finished as he brought the tool up and popped the cover of the access panel off, then put the tool back in his belt and pulled a different one, a small remote looking device. Almost without a thought, Corin pushed the end of it against the access panel and pressed a button. The device pulsed, recognizing his engineering override, and he popped the cover back on before hitting the “open” button on the door.

“Ain’t ever need to thank me, miss. Happy to do it,” he said with a half smile turning to meet her gaze before stepping aside and gesturing with a hand.

“Your ship now, miss. You need to get anything outta it ‘fore I start my work? I just need to grab somethin’ from my speeder and get to the command console here, figure out what’s goin on with her.” He tapped the side of the ship with his knuckles.

“After that, we’ll see if we gotta replace that stabilizer or if I can get’cha outta here quicker.” He kept his smile on for her. She was pretty, made him feel useful, needed. It was a nice feeling, even if it went nowhere afterwards. Everyone liked feeling needed. It was just being outright relied upon that gave Corin pause.

This Bella was keeping it simple. Do your job, help me out, I can’t. Easy.

Then he blinked and his eyes went wide, “Oh, yeah, and you said he locked you out of the system too? That won’t be an issue either. I can override his command and getcha able to pilot this thing. I’d feel bad but….screw ‘em he left you for Corellia.”

It seemed that was the most egregious thing. Not that he left her, that he left her to go somewhere…here.

Kinley Pryse

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Kinley once stole a payroll shipment so cleanly the Empire investigated the accounting department for six months.​

Kinley watched as he keyed in his engineering clearance code and the ship's boarding ramp hissed open.

What he didn't know was that she'd paid a slicer a small fortune to intercept the transmission and clone the code. The moment he'd entered it, hidden software buried in the ship's systems had sprung to life. By the time anyone bothered to audit the flight logs, every breadcrumb would lead straight back to him.

And Kinley Pryse would be halfway across the sector.

"I appreciate it," she said, flashing him another grateful smile.

It was the same wide-eyed damsel-in-distress act she'd perfected years ago, and she hated every second of it. Unfortunately, it worked. The engineer chuckled and mentioned how awful it was to find a room on Corellia these days.

"Tell me about it," Kinley replied.

Though she wasn't thinking about accommodations. She had places to be.

More specifically, this ship full of credits had places to be.

The engineer turned and headed back toward his speeder to grab a few tools.

That was her cue.

Kinley strode up the boarding ramp with the confidence of a woman who already knew how the story ended. Moments later, the cockpit displays flickered to life, bathing her in soft blue light. Engines hummed awake beneath her feet as the ship's systems completed their startup sequence.

She settled into the pilot's chair and smirked.

The poor fool was probably still looking for his hydrospanner but Kinley was already a goner and he was now a fall man.




Corin Vale

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Corin Vale]

Corin stared in absolute confusion as the ship roared to life and blasted into the sky. He watched, covering his eyes from the blare of the engines as they carried the ship into the atmosphere, then soon disappeared entirely from view.

“…shoulda got paid up front, Vale…” he said with a sigh, dropping his hand.

“So…what?” He asked no one, raising his arms and dropping them at his sides. “Just locked her keys inside? Stole her boyfriend’s ride? Well no, this maint request…” he bent down to the datapad and picked it up.

“This is…it was…huh.” He tossed the datapad back on the speeder and sat back on the door, crossing his arms.

As he sat, an anger built in him. He got played. Made a fool of. He knew that much. Unfortunately that was all he knew.

After a few minutes of quiet self loathing, his communicator began to hum.

“Yeah this is Vale.”

“Cori?!” Came the response, his immediate supervisor, Delia.
“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Cancel that job! Cancel it now!”

“Well…yeah, alright but she took off.”

“She what?!”

Corin blinked, startled, “ships gone. I undid the door for her, went to go get my things, she took off. Ships gone,” he repeated, “just a runaway why you in a tiff about it more than I am?”

“That was a Trade Guild ship! It had PAYROLL on it! Hundreds of not millions of credits on board!”

Corin’s face fell. “W-well,” he started, “They know it ah…wasn’t me, right?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure if you opened the door! Your signa-….yep, I got it here. Yeah…Corin? You gotta go.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your transmission codes were just sent to the Trade Guild. They sent them to us. You’re the one who stole that ship, or know where to find it. They’re coming to get you.” She said, panic evident in her voice.

Corin didn’t respond. He just clicked the communication device off and looked back in the sky, his face devoid of any emotion.

“Shit.”

Kinley Pryse